


Chasing Sunrise

by Dont_touch_the_phlebotinum



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Homophobic Language, M/M, mentions of sexual abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 17:28:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4400870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dont_touch_the_phlebotinum/pseuds/Dont_touch_the_phlebotinum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another night on the run leads to another cheap motel room, though it seems there are still some firsts in store for Loki and Bucky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chasing Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Against All Odds](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4346663) by [plastic_cello](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plastic_cello/pseuds/plastic_cello). 



> All credit for this storyline goes to Plastic_Cello. This is her universe she's created; I'm just borrowing it. And needless to say, this will probably make more sense if you've read Against All Odds first.

Blood pulsed in Loki's ears. It covered the backs of his bruised knuckles, the smell of it thick in his nose. He wished he could say it was the first time. In truth, he was no stranger to blood and violence by now.

His heart still racing, he gripped the steering wheel tighter despite his forced steady speed, eyes on the rear-view mirror more often than anyone should have the need to, checking to make sure the road behind them was still as devoid of life as it had been for the past hour. He was a paranoid bastard these days. That's what life on the run would do to you, he supposed.

"You couldn't have stolen a car from someone with better taste in music?"

Loki glanced over at his sometimes-lover slinging CDs back into the glove box with disgust. Even if he had found a record that had met his standards, he probably wouldn't have bothered playing it, less interested in finding something to listen to than he was in searching for a distraction from their current predicament.

Twenty-five years old, Bucky Barnes had already witnessed more in his short life than men three times his age. It was easy to forget sometimes, until the light would catch his boyish face a certain way or he'd miss a reference to something from before his time, just how young he truly was. The eyes, though, big and bright as they were, always reflected the things he'd seen, the things he'd been forced to do.

It hadn't been the life he'd chosen for himself. He'd revealed it all to Loki in a rare moment of vulnerable honesty, how Alexander Pierce had taken him in after Bucky had lost his parents as a teen and raised him as his own. All he'd asked for in return was a lifetime of mindless loyalty and servitude in his organised crime syndicate.

This had been the life Loki had chosen, stupid and self-destructive as he was, yet somehow he'd been the one to pull them both out of it.

Or he was trying to, at least.

Brock Rumlow, Pierce's favourite dutiful lapdog now Bucky was no longer the golden boy, had been on their tail since they'd disappeared from New York City weeks before. How he'd managed to follow them more than halfway across the country when they'd been so careful, never giving their real names and paying in cash everywhere they went to avoid leaving a paper trail, Loki didn't know, but he'd finally caught up with them earlier that evening.

Of all the dive bars, in all the towns, in all the world, he'd walked into theirs. Or tracked them to it; what difference did it make? Either way, he'd been out for blood, and he and his henchmen had come dangerously close to killing them — and had no doubt succeeded with some of the other patrons caught in the crossfire — before Loki and Bucky had managed to gain the upper hand and escape.

"Rumlow'll know where we're heading," Bucky said.

"We don't even know where we're heading, James."

They hadn't dared stop in almost two hours, passing increasingly unappealing motels as they'd headed further into the middle of nowhere. But they couldn't run forever. Dawn was only a few hours away, and they were exhausted and running low on gas. They'd have to stop before long.

"I hate when you call me that."

"No you don't."

He took his eyes off the road again to meet Bucky's staring back at him in the low light of the car. Bucky didn't argue the point. If anyone else dared to call him James they'd have ended up without teeth, but at worst Loki would earn a scowl or half-hearted insult for the offence. And Loki wasn't the first to notice it, either. Really, Pierce couldn't be all that surprised the two of them had escaped together.

"We could have stopped at any one of the motels we've passed," he went on, getting back to the problem at hand. "You credit Rumlow with too much intelligence."

"You don't credit him with enough," Bucky shot back. "He's smarter than he looks."

Loki was all too aware of that already. Still, he couldn't keep the insult from his lips. "Hardly an accomplishment."

Bucky was looking at him strangely when Loki glanced back over at him. "Are you all there in the head?" he said, the question a genuine curiosity rather than an insult. Loki had heard far worse in his time to be offended if it had been.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well first you give up your sweet life to work for a bunch of gangsters, then you piss off Lukin and the Russians, turn on Pierce, and now you're trying to get yourself killed by Rumlow. What's your trauma?"

"Anything for the quiet life," Loki replied with a too-wide smile.

"You're a fucking nut."

"Nobody forced you to come along."

Having said that, though, Loki never would have left without him. He could have gotten away months ago, bought himself a plane ticket to the other side of the world and disappeared the very night Pierce had graciously decided not to kill him for almost starting a war with the Russians. Bucky probably would have been the one sent to put a bullet in him if he had. But instead he'd waited, watched helpless as Bucky had been ordered to kill and torture when he wasn't being passed around as a peace offering or a bribe to ensure compliance with Pierce's wishes, until finally Bucky's loyalty to Pierce had been weakened enough for Loki to act. Even then, tending to the cuts and bruises Lukin's boys always loved to leave Bucky with, it had taken all of Loki's considerable powers of persuasion to convince Bucky getting out was the best thing for both of them.

And maybe one day he would stop resenting Loki for it.

Bucky reached out to fiddle with the AC — though it did little to ease the stifling heat in the car, sweat keeping Loki's back stuck to his seat — and Loki closed his hand around Bucky's fingers. It was a brief touch, not nearly enough to satisfy Loki's desires, but still it was more intimacy than he was entitled to. The moment Loki's skin brushed his, Bucky pulled his hand back without a word and curled it against his chest. He probably would have done even without the fresh cast on his wrist, his parting gift from Rumlow and co. He buried his chin inside the hoodie he still wore despite the heat and stared back out of the window while Loki watched him.

He was almost unrecognisable from the man Loki had met the year before; his hair grown out and hanging in dark curtains over his face, a few days' worth of stubble perpetually covering his chin and the slick suits he'd once favoured replaced by old jeans and t-shirts. Maybe that was the intention, or maybe now he was no longer a respectable member of Pierce's inner circle he saw no need to make the effort.

"How's your arm?" Loki said, to break the uncomfortable silence stretching between them more than anything.

"Fine." He'd certainly had worse in his time working for Pierce, though he'd never have been sent back out into the fray before the painkillers had even had chance to kick in like he was now. "We shouldn't have stopped."

"And how exactly would you have expected me to patch up a broken arm by myself? I can stitch up cuts and bullet holes, certainly, but I can't fix a break like that." Besides, they had to have put a few of Rumlow's men in the hospital as well — if not the morgue. Their little detour to the emergency room would have been a time out for all of them. "Even with that cast you'll be effectively useless if Rumlow finds us again any time soon."

Bucky said nothing in response, but just as an even seedier-looking motel than the last crept into view Loki caught movement in his peripheral vision and the warm metal of a gun pressed against his temple. It had become a disconcertingly familiar experience over the past year.

"Useless, huh?" Bucky said, and Loki glanced across to see a tiny glint of anger in his eye.

"You aren't going to shoot me."

"You sure sound confident."

A smirk tugged at Loki's lips. "The safety's still on," he said as they approached the motel and pulled into the parking lot. Bucky drew the gun away, though before the triumphant smile could even dawn on Loki's face there was a click in the otherwise quiet car, and the gun was back against his skin.

In the garish purple light filling the car's interior from the neon sign above them, Bucky's face was impassive. He watched Loki wordlessly, as he so often did, but Loki met his gaze head-on, daring him to pull the trigger. It would no doubt be a nicer end than the one Rumlow had planned for him. After a few tense seconds Bucky finally returned the gun to the back waistband of his jeans with a scowl.

"Asshole."

They didn't share another word until they were locked safely inside their room. Loki didn't bother giving it so much as a cursory once-over as he dropped his bag at the foot of one of the beds and crossed towards the bathroom. Once you'd seen one cheap motel room, you'd seen them all. The only thing that differed each time was the tasteless decoration and level of filth, and he'd prefer to be surprised by the latter once he'd at least cleansed away the last few hours.

"Do you want the first shower?" Loki said over the thud of Bucky tossing his own bag to the ground. Ordinarily he probably wouldn't have bothered offering, but fighting over hot water wasn't likely to be an issue tonight.

"Can't with this stupid thing on my arm," he replied as he appeared in the doorway.

"Well don't expect me to give you a sponge bath."

He peeled himself out of his clothes and stepped into the grimy, cramped shower cubicle with a grimace. And sure enough, even with the hot water on full the spray was lukewarm at best — though Loki was too relieved that the worryingly brown liquid that had sputtered from the shower head at first had quickly been followed by something clean to worry about it. He didn't bother wrestling with the curtain hanging half off the rail before beginning to scrub away the sweat and dried blood from his skin. Bucky had seen it all before plenty of times. And if he didn't want Loki's naked body two feet from his face, he could have headed back into the bedroom rather than perching himself atop the toilet tank in prime viewing position.

Bucky propped his feet on either side of the bowl — the seat was long gone, to Loki's complete lack of surprise — without a care to the dirt his boots were smearing across the porcelain as he held his broken arm protectively against himself. It wouldn't make the toilet any less disgusting, Loki supposed. "There's roaches," Bucky said after a moment. Loki couldn't be sure if he was simply making an observation or if this was his attempt to start a conversation.

He poked his head back out of the cubicle and followed Bucky's gaze to the insect creeping along the wall and disappearing into a rotted hole in the skirting board. "Charming. Though on the bright side, perhaps Rumlow really won't find us here; even his standards are too high to stop at this shithole."

An uncomfortable silence settled over them at the mention of Rumlow. Bucky was the first to break it.

"We're gonna die out here," he said.

"Have you always been such a defeatist?"

"Just being realistic. Our future is we run until we burn through our cash, or until Rumlow catches up with us. Any way you slice it, me and you ain't living out the year."

He didn't even sound upset about it; just stating a simple truth, like he'd already long ago resigned himself to the fact that his life would be short and filled with violence before he met his inevitable, brutal end. But Loki had certainly never planned to end up dumped in an unmarked grave in the desert, and he wasn't about to accept that possibility now.

"There has to be some kind of support system in place for people like us." As soon as the words left him he knew it was a long shot.

Bucky scoffed. "You kidding? We worked for Alexander fucking Pierce. There's no cushy witness protection for us. We turn ourselves in and rat on the others for a reduced sentence, we're still going down; end up getting taken out by one of Pierce's guys inside soon as they sniff us out."

"But at least that way I'd get to have a little fun before the end," Loki said, and shot Bucky a grin. "I've heard some fascinating things about what goes on in prison showers."

"Fag," Bucky muttered, shaking his head. To his credit, though, he had become far less obnoxious since he'd been away from the influence of Pierce's other thugs. Mostly he was quiet these days, lost in his own thoughts. He had a surprising level of intelligence when he cared to share what was on his mind. Dare he say it, Bucky was actually quite pleasant, which did little to help with Loki's burgeoning feelings for the man. He'd much preferred when Bucky was just a body to him, a fantastic lay or masturbatory fantasy whenever he'd remember he was supposedly too heterosexual to keep finding his way into Loki's bed, and nothing more.

"I don't remember hearing any complaints the last time my mouth was wrapped around your cock."

Bucky rolled his eyes and glanced away again, sucking on the inside of his cheek while Loki buried his head back under the now icy cold spray. The cold was something of a relief in this heat, though. God, Loki hated the fucking desert. In the past, it had always had more to do with the proximity to his older brother, who'd made his home not too far from here, for some unfathomable reason, though being chased across the country by a violent psychopath at the behest of another violent psychopath had managed to trump it. Barely.

"Make yourself useful and pass me a towel, would you?" Loki said as he shut off the water.

"They'll probably give you crabs."

"Well if you're right about our chances out here, I won't have long to be bothered by it."

He stepped from the shower and Bucky handed him a relatively fresh-looking towel. And perhaps it was just his imagination, but Loki could have sworn he'd caught Bucky's eyes lingering before Loki wrapped the towel around his waist.

"So do you really believe this shtick about us having a choice in all this?" Bucky said while Loki began to dry himself.

"You chose to get out, didn't you? You're choosing to keep running."

Bucky's brow furrowed at that and he chewed on his bottom lip, though whatever was on his mind, he didn't put voice to it. An ugly thought surfaced in Loki's mind as he watched him.

"If Pierce ordered you to kill me in exchange for being let back into the fold, would you do it?" he said. It wasn't the first time he'd considered the possibility since they'd left New York, though the question had been bothering him too much to ignore it any longer.

"He'd just kill me straight after," Bucky replied. "He doesn't do forgiveness."

"But if he did?"

Bucky met his eyes then, unblinking while he pondered his answer. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I haven't got a whole lot of prospects outside of that life, but maybe you're right about being better off away from it."

Loki smiled. "I'm always right."

"You wish," Bucky replied, before stifling a yawn.

"Get some sleep."

He nodded, and Loki glanced down again to finish towelling himself dry while Bucky moved to head back into the main room. Before he left Loki to himself, though, Bucky's fingers lightly brushed along Loki's side as he stepped from the room.

He was in bed when Loki returned from the bathroom himself, eyes closed but no doubt still awake. Loki didn't say anything; simply double- and triple-checked that the door was locked and windows covered, before debating whether it was worth wasting fresh clothes just on going to bed or risking climbing under the surely filthy sheets naked. In the end he decided to risk it, making himself about as comfortable as it was probably possible to get on the lumpy mattress and glancing over at Bucky shifting in his own bed.

"Goodnight, James."

"Yeah."

Loki stayed wide awake long after the words had left him, though, and from the constant rustling sounds of fidgeting on the other side of the small room, he wasn't the only one. Eventually Bucky gave up on attempting to sleep and crossed the room, crawling into bed beside him the same way he always came to Loki: silent and full of self-loathing for needing anything from him, be it sex or first aid after another of the countless scraps he would get into for Pierce. And Loki welcomed him, as he always did.

"I want you to fuck me," Bucky said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me fine. I ain't saying it again."

Loki had every right to be taken aback by the request, though. In all the times he and Bucky had been together, Bucky had never let Loki fuck him, still clinging desperately to the delusion that he wasn't attracted to men. But Loki wasn't going to hesitate long enough for Bucky to change his mind.

He was out of bed in a heartbeat and rooting through his bag for the lube and condoms he'd had the foresight to pack, and when he turned back to the bed Bucky had already pulled his t-shirt over his head and was struggling to free himself from his boxer shorts with only one hand.

"Here," Loki said as he climbed back onto the bed and tugged Bucky's shorts down for him, his eyes falling to Bucky's cock lying soft against his thigh until Bucky spoke.

"Impatient?"

"Can you blame me?"

He kissed his way along Bucky's skin, the smell of disinfectant that every hospital seemed to share clinging to him so strongly Loki could almost taste it, until he reached the dark bruise on Bucky's jaw and closed his teeth around it. Bucky gave a sharp, pained groan in response.

"You're such a freak, Loki, you know that?"

"You're hardly the first person to tell me such."

Loki leant in again to catch Bucky's mouth in another kiss, taking his bottom lip between his teeth while Bucky's tongue flicked out to lick at Loki's top lip, before he slid lower. Bucky's skin was hot beneath Loki's lips and already damp with sweat as he sucked roughly at a nipple and Bucky gasped under him. But Loki didn't linger to pull more of those sweet sounds from him; instead he kept on his trail down Bucky's body, tracing over the intricate pattern of the tattoo covering Bucky's side with his tongue and still sliding lower, over hard muscle and coarse hair, past Bucky's hardening cock, until he was pulling Bucky's thighs over his shoulders and burying his face between them to slide his tongue over Bucky's hole.

Bucky's hand flew into Loki's hair at that first wet lick. "Fuck," he said. "Give a guy a little warning before you do that, would ya?"

Loki pulled back just enough to gaze up the plane of tensed muscles to meet Bucky's eyes. "I'd have thought wanting me to fuck you would have been warning enough that I might end up down here before long. Unless you'd rather I just stick it straight in?"

"No," Bucky said quickly, and at his tone Loki was struck with the unpleasant reminder of just how many times Bucky had likely experienced exactly that.

"Then shut up and let me get on with it."

Bucky dropped his head back onto the pillow and Loki returned his attention to Bucky's entrance. With the tension gripping Bucky's body now Loki was down here and the reality of what they were about to do had seemed to dawn on him, it would take some time to loosen him up, but Loki was nothing if not dedicated to the cause. He devoted himself to it wholly, licking and circling and teasing with barely a thought to the growing ache in his own dick, Bucky's laboured breathing above him spurring him on until his fingers slid easily inside and his jaw throbbed from his efforts.

"Ready?" he said, voice rough, while he slid on a condom and poured out another generous helping of lube to slather over his dick.

"Yeah. Just get on with it."

"You're such a romantic, Barnes."

"Fuck you."

Whatever other insults Bucky might have had ready never had the chance to slip from his tongue. Loki leant forward as he slowly pushed inside, draping himself over Bucky's body and kissing him deeply. This wasn't quite how he'd imagined finally getting to fuck him, laying him down in some fleabag motel room for a gentle, boring romp, but he'd take what he could get. And when Bucky felt this good around his dick, even the most vanilla sex promised to be a memorable experience.

"I always knew you'd be tight," he said against Bucky's ear while he began to move. "God, you feel incredible."

Bucky let out a tiny groan and Loki pushed himself up to look at him, his eyes shut and brow furrowed, still lying perfectly still beneath him.

"Does it hurt?"

"No," Bucky replied. "It's just different from what I'm used to."

Well he'd hope so. As Loki rolled his hips it was some effort to keep from thrusting harder, flipping Bucky over and fucking into him until every other poor soul in the building could hear their screams, the same way Bucky loved taking him, but he held himself back. He'd have to, if he ever wanted the chance to do this again. And, God, did Loki want to do this again.

It seemed even Bucky was starting to enjoy himself. His hips finally began to move with Loki's, grinding against him as he dragged Loki down into a bruising, graceless kiss. He kept his eyes closed for a second after they'd broken apart, lips parted just enough for his ragged breaths and the occasional moan to slip out, and as his muscles tightened around Loki's cock Loki let out a cry of his own. Another fraction of his self-control crumbled with it, and he dropped his head while he rocked his hips faster, Bucky's moving in time, his hands on the small of Loki's back and their foreheads touching as they groaned against each other's lips.

"Imagine if Rumlow found us now," Loki said.

Bucky cracked a smile in response, and a warm laugh bubbled up from his chest. "The sight of your ass would probably scare him off for good."

"That would be a fine way to defend ourselves, wouldn't it? Perhaps we should do this every night until he finds us."

He'd half expected to earn a scowl and a rough shove away for the comment, but neither came. Instead Bucky pulled Loki in for another kiss while his good hand slid down to the back of Loki's thigh and held him in place, the movement pushing Loki's cock deeper inside him.

Loki's body grew tight as Bucky continued to move against him, and he reached between their bodies to wrap his hand around Bucky's erection, dragging his thumb over the wet head. Bucky let out a choked gasp at the touch and his hips jerked upwards, unconsciously pushing himself further into Loki's hand.

"Are you close?" Loki said. He could have seen it just by looking, really; the deep flush covering Bucky's skin, his hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, precum dribbling over Loki's fingers. He was probably no more composed himself.

"Yeah." Bucky's voice was rough and breathless as he spoke, only a fraction louder than the mattress springs squeaking relentlessly beneath them. The sound was positively sinful. "Keep going."

As if Loki had any intention of stopping. He moved faster, the head of his cock in the perfect position to brush Bucky's prostate with every thrust and his hand moving rapidly on Bucky's dick as their cries grew louder. It only took another clench of Bucky's muscles around him and his teeth closing tight on Loki's earlobe for Loki to go from teetering at the edge of orgasm to plunging over it, and as he rode out the waves of pleasure overwhelming him his grip tightened on Bucky's cock until, with a drawn-out moan, Bucky spilled across his chest.

Loki rolled off of him and collapsed onto the mattress beside him, his heart pounding for the best reason it had all night. He wouldn't have long to enjoy the afterglow, however; any second Bucky would be up, slinging a few choice insults Loki's way to compensate for his moment of vulnerability.

But a few seconds of tranquillity turned into thirty, and still the only movement beside Loki was the rise and fall of Bucky's chest as he lay staring up at the ceiling. It was only once they'd caught their breaths that Bucky finally shifted, peering down at the mess on his stomach with a grimace.

"I'm fucking disgusting," he said.

Wordlessly, Loki got up and pulled Bucky to his feet, leading him back into the bathroom with surprisingly little resistance. He reached for the cleanest-looking hand towel he could find and ran it under the tap. Bucky could have easily done this himself, yet he didn't protest, nor did he have any objection when Loki stepped closer, their foreheads almost touching again while Loki dragged the damp towel across Bucky's skin.

"I don't want to die," Bucky said quietly after a moment, and Loki's eyes flicked up to look at him. His own were downcast, staring intently at the towel in Loki's hand as if he could pretend he wasn't admitting this to Loki as long as he didn't meet his gaze. "It's probably the least I deserve, things I've done. But if you're right about us having any kind of control over this — and that's a big damn if, by the way — then I don't want to."

Loki nodded, even if the gesture was pointless with Bucky's gaze still on anything but Loki's face. He bit down on the inside of his cheek as he resigned himself to the suggestion he was about to make. He'd hoped it would never come to this, though these were desperate times. It had to be worth a shot, at least.

He let out a heavy breath through his nose, and at last Bucky looked up to meet his eyes. "I might know somebody who can help."

Perhaps it was finally time to pay his brother a visit.


End file.
